


you could give it all (but it's never enough)

by streimel



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Belligerent Sexual Tension, M/M, copious amounts of cursing, sungyeol and woohyun are annoying, to each other and everyone else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 11:19:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5414846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/streimel/pseuds/streimel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sungyeol and Woohyun mean nothing to each other. Sungyeol and Woohyun are just in this for themselves. Sungyeol and Woohyun could quit anytime.</p>
<p>(Sungyeol and Woohyun are terrible at lying.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	you could give it all (but it's never enough)

**Author's Note:**

> wow wooyeol long time no write
> 
> didn't re-read b/c I work in 7 hours sry
> 
> gosh darn I love wooyeol

_"oh my my my/_

_what you do to me/_

_like lightning/_

_when i'm swimming in the sea"_

 

\- "powerful" by major lazer

 

* * *

 

"Are you falling in love with me?" Woohyun asks with a conspiratorial smile, swiping sweat-soaked hair out of Sungyeol's eyes with unsteady fingers. With a shake of his head, Sungyeol swings it back into place, obscuring his view of Woohyun and his perfect body and his perfect face and his fucking knowing eyes, looking down on him from above.

Sungyeol's response is as biting as his fingers when they dig into Woohyun's hipbones, angling him up to drive deeper. "You? Not a chance."

"Fucking asshole," Woohyun spits out, meaning it and much more than that as well.

"Shut the fuck up," Sungyeol says, words sincere in their intent, before pulling Woohyun down to quiet him another way.

Woohyun lets Sungyeol dig his face into the crook of his neck when he cums, strokes the back of his neck with delicate fingers until the shudders subside, even places a kiss on the crown of Sungyeol's head when Sungyeol lays his head down on his chest. But the moment he swings a leg out of his bed, the spell's broken.

"Get out," Woohyun says casually, wiping the cum from his hand onto Sungyeol's only t-shirt before throwing it on the remaining load on Sungyeol's chest. "I have shit to do."

Sungyeol shoots him disgusted looks as he gets dressed, particularly when he sees how his soiled shirt sticks to his stomach. "You're such a dick, you know that?"

Woohyun struts around the room, hiking up a leg on his desk chair to get a better angle for cleaning Sungyeol's spunk away, and he knows the look Sungyeol gives him promises a god damn earth-shattering second round, but he really has shit to do. Woohyun's thought about it often, about how he could stay in this room for hours, have Sungyeol fuck him every which way until his body just can't take it anymore, but he knows those moments in-between, when he watches Sungyeol sleep on the pillow beside him, divinely beautiful, would come back to haunt him late at night.

"Honest question: could you possibly get dressed any slower?"

Sungyeol mumbles dangerously all the way to the front door, cutting daggers at Woohyun while tying shoe laces, and he says something under his breath Woohyun doesn't quite catch.

"Man up and say it to my face if you're not scared," Woohyun says with a forced laugh, and there's a genuine terror for a moment that Sungyeol might actually snap this time and punch his face in.

"I  _said_  'I don't know why I put up with your bullshit'" Sungyeol says, enunciating every syllable as if he thinks Woohyun is stupid, and Woohyun just smiles radiantly, slapping Sungyeol's ass as he pushes him out of the door.

"Think about that before you text me first, fucker," Woohyun says, kiss blown as the door slams in Sungyeol's face.

* * *

The reality of the story is something like this: Sungyeol and Woohyun met, and that was it. They met at a house party, in a club, introduced by friends, on a dating site. The truth was, they didn't really recall what actually happened and it really didn't matter. It was on the street, in a coffee shop, in a thousand different places, all at once. At some point in time, one of them had vaguely remembered the details of their introduction, but, like all unnecessary memories, it had faded away. The real danger in anonymous sex turning not-so-anonymous was the question of how to explain to your parents over dinner how exactly you managed to meet the person sitting beside you.

Not that Woohyun had intended it to be anything less than anonymous. In fact, Woohyun had been so all about the variety of life he simply didn't call them again, no matter how good the sex was. His intention had not been to text Sungyeol again; however, in his anonymity, he had left the numbers in his texts unadded, and simply texted the wrong person, leading to a particularly sticky situation when his doorbell had rung.

"You again?" Woohyun had said with enough introductory attitude that Sungyeol had stomped off and Woohyun had had to run down the hallway in just his underwear to stop him from leaving.

"You texted me! I thought you wanted to hook-up again," Sungyeol had complained, unmovable from the corner of an elevator that shrieked its warning signal at them as Woohyun stood in the door, refusing to letting it close.

"I texted the wrong person. I was expecting someone else but, as can be seen, I got you instead. Well...whatever, you'll do for the night."

Somehow, it had been a convincing argument. More likely than not, Sungyeol's thought process probably followed a similar pattern of just going with it after dragging himself over to Woohyun's apartment in the first place, but Woohyun would always chock it up to his irresistibility (and the 80,000 won pair of underwear he'd put on).

In the end, Woohyun doesn't (secretly) regret a single moment of it. Things Woohyun remembered about Sungyeol had come back as he slid Sungyeol's zipper down to get at his dick: long, powerful fingers, the moles on his chest, Sungyeol grinding him facedown into his mattress. What he hadn't remembered was how goddamn good Sungyeol apparently was at fucking, bending him over the stone countertop in his bathroom and using him until he had begged for succor. Nam Woohyun simply  _did not_  beg.

(Unless Lee Sungyeol was making him weak with need.)

Woohyun's intention had been to quite simply hit it and quit it (for the final time) before washing his hands of the guy. Instead, he had offered to make coffee for Sungyeol as they had walked towards the door after cleaning up, nearly freezing in shock before Sungyeol had flatly refused, put on his jacket, and left.

After that, it had just been one excuse after another, from the both of them. Date fell through? Better call Woohyun and see what he's up to. Just in the neighborhood (even if they lived six neighborhoods and a 40 minute subway ride apart)? Woohyun was terrible at lying. Late night hook-ups turned into getting lunch. Blowjobs in department store dressing rooms bled into introducing each other to friends. Woohyun woke up and Sungyeol was still in his bed. At 7 am. On a Monday.

Nam Woohyun did not commit. Nam Woohyun did not have fucking sleepovers like it was middle school all over again. Nam Woohyun did not go on dates on Tuesday nights.

(Unless, of course, Lee Sungyeol was involved.)

Woohyun had punched Howon when Howon had "mistakenly" referred to Sungyeol as his boyfriend. Sungyeol had hesitated when his mother had asked him if he was seeing anyone. A stranger walking past at the Han River had commented on how well they seemed to suit each other - they had fought all the way back to Sungyeol's apartment, one-upping each other on how much better they could do before negating their whole argument with a two-hour makeout session that left both of them clinging on to one another.

They swore they were 100% not falling in love.

(They were already completely gone to begin with.)

* * *

It's dark out when Sungyeol gets up late on a Sunday morning, but only because of the rain streaming down his window. It's the perfect kind of day to do absolutely nothing but make a conscious decision to avoid responsibility and binge watch TV for 7 hours straight. He doesn't bother dressing as he heads out to get some coffee, brought up short by the lingering presence of Woohyun, one leg thrown over the back of the couch. The TV's showing some Europa league replays, and Sungyeol's just glad Woohyun had the decency to watch it on mute as opposed to blasting it like usual. Woohyun doesn't acknowledge him as he walks past, but he doesn't care.

Not awake enough by half to even question Woohyun's extended stay, Sungyeol continues to the kitchen, opting for a regular brewed coffee over starting up his fancy espresso machine - he wants to be awake, not ready to run a marathon. An aroma of coffee in the air creates a Pavlovian response in his mind he doesn't understand; he feels relaxed, comfortable, not at all off-put by Woohyun hanging around still. Life is good today.

Sungyeol leans back again the wood of the counter, letting it press into his lower back as he drinks the first steamy sip, eyes closing as the taste floats down his throat. He gives the cup one more stir, dropping the spoon into the sink at his left, and it takes a moment for his brain to register the clink of metal on metal before. The sight before him is something out of a murder scene, dishes thrown carelessly into the sink, egg and oil adhered to plate, fork, pan. On one hand, Sungyeol has no right to judge about just throwing dishes into the sink without a care, but these are  _his_  dishes, in  _his_ kitchen, in  _his_  apartment.

Coffee forgotten on the counter, Sungyeol stalks to the living room, leaning over the back of the couch with a look that could kill. Woohyun seems content to ignore him, and he shoves at the leg hung over the cushion until it slides off, colliding with the its partner.

"What?!" Woohyun says with a start, obviously aggravated, and Sungyeol blows out a loud breath through his nose. Like hell Woohyun doesn't know what's going on.

"Did you make breakfast for yourself this morning?"

Woohyun maintains eye contact with Sungyeol for only a second before relaxing back into the couch. "Uh, yeah?"

"It's a mess in there."

"Whatever, I put the dishes in the sink."

"Does that mean you're not going to clean them?"

"Wasn't planning on it," Woohyun says, turning up the volume on the remote in an obvious indication the conversation is over.

Sungyeol's initial thought it to take the fucking thing and shove it down Woohyun's throat, but he's trying to have a good day, and being questioned for murder isn't something he'd probably find enjoyable, even if it were worth it. Instead, he returns to the kitchen and his abandoned coffee, chugging it down in one go. It burns his throat, but he relishes the feeling; it extinguishes the hot rage of his anger, letting it cool into embers.

Sungyeol makes as much noise as possible washing the dishes (because if he doesn't do it, it's sure as hell not getting down), hoping with all his might to disturb Woohyun as much as possible. Indeed, it's not long before Woohyun struts into the kitchen, either looking for the source of the noise or for a fight, Sungyeol's not sure.

Sungyeol feels Woohyun at his back as he's rinsing off the last of the dishes, a tentative hand at his waist asking permission, and he leans into it, knowing better than to give in to Woohyun but feeling incapable of stopping himself anyway.

"What are you doing here? Don't tell me you were worried about the rain messing up your hair or something?" Sungyeol says as Woohyun wraps his arms around him, nose pressed into his shoulder. Woohyun just hums, running a hand down the inside of his bare thigh, and Sungyeol shivers.

"No clothes? You must think you're a god, walking around naked," Woohyun deflects, and Sungyeol grinds his teeth in frustration.

"Couldn't find my pair of underwear, and I figured I should be comfortable in my own home on my day off," Sungyeol enunciates with force, throwing the clean spatula at the drying rack and missing completely. Woohyun laughs, and Sungyeol slams his hands on the sink.

"I stole them. They're more comfortable than mine."

Sungyeol turns around in Woohyun's arms, looking at Woohyun's hips shake, probably thinking he's being cute, and it's too much for him to handle. An inkling of a thought of just straight up murdering Woohyun comes to Sungyeol's mind again, and he finds it harder to ignore this time around.

"Take off my underwear and get out," Sungyeol says, reaching out to dry off wet hands on Woohyun's chest, and Woohyun doesn't even lash out like he normally would. Sungyeol looks up, waiting for the reaction, but Woohyun just kind of stares at him, as if he's lost.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm leaving, Sungyeol."

There's an instant panic within Sungyeol he would never, ever admit to. Somewhere in his mind or heart or soul whispers "you need him", but he pushes it away. He doesn't need Woohyun, and yet, here he is, about to cry or throw up or something at the thought of losing Woohyun.

"Oh?" Sungyeol tries casually, praying he doesn't give himself away.

Woohyun avoids looking at him, which is a relief. "Just for two weeks," Woohyun adds. "For work."

It takes a moment for Sungyeol to comprehend it, and then he feels ridiculous for panicking in the first place. "Oh. Oh! You made it seem like you were moving abroad or something."

"Would you be sad if I did?" The hip wiggles are back again, obviously Woohyun's attempt to lighten the suddenly tense mood, and Sungyeol rolls his eyes.

"I would be relieved."

"Whatever, Sungyeol," Woohyun frowns, stopping his hips in place. He looks so cute to Sungyeol, standing there in his underwear, looking like a lost puppy needing a good home. Sungyeol reminds himself that it's not too far off; Woohyun is still trying to find himself, and Sungyeol's sly enough to have caught on why Woohyun still comes around. Sungyeol doesn't push him to be anything, lets him be his cocky, asshole self because he knows it's a front, and that's all what Woohyun needs. Not someone forcing him into getting it together; someone willing to ride out the storm until he gets there.

(Sungyeol just wishes he had enough wisdom to figure out why he lets him do it in the first place.)

A rift grows in the moment, in the space between their bodies, and there's no hope patching it up with words; they don't trust in each other enough yet to be able to discern the line between teasing and sincerity. So Sungyeol leans down instead, placing his mouth on Woohyun's, his hands on Woohyun's hips, and draws him in. This is how he can show Woohyun he wants him, the only way he can think to convey his affection. And it's a problem, one that's quickly needing a solution, because they're reaching a point that lips and tongues and fingers can't explain, but for today, this is enough.

Sungyeol lays Woohyun out on the white rug in his living room for a few reasons: first, he likes way it contrasts against the tan of Woohyun's skin; second, the living room has the biggest windows, and the rain-gray light casts shadows across Woohyun's body that make him look ethereal, like a statue carved of marble. Sungyeol grabs the remote, turning the TV off and chucking the damn thing as far away as possible, and bends down to place a kiss on the inside of Woohyun's thigh.

Sungyeol has no explanation as towhy he spends all his time, exploring every part of Woohyun's body, learning it back and forth as if to make up for the forthcoming absence. Usually, he would jerk Woohyun off just enough to get him squirming before fucking him quick and hard, sufficient if not forgettable, but he throws it all away for just today, giving himself over and taking all he can.

Sungyeol turns Woohyun over, sitting atop Woohyun's thighs and letting his hands run over Woohyun's back, intimate but nothing more. Woohyun, for his part, doesn't seem to question the turn events, and rests his head on his crossed forearms, groaning when Sungyeol's long fingers dig into the muscles at his shoulders. Sungyeol might spend 20 minutes, an hour, maybe 4 just feeling Woohyun's power, fingers learning every dip in sinew and skin.

Sungyeol's mouth follows. Lips trace a pattern down Woohyun's spine, leaving wet trails on the ridges of bone. Sungyeol sits back, surveying the work of his hands, pink marks from the pressure, before open-handedly grabbing the flesh of Woohyun's ass, fingers digging in rough before coming away, returning with a loud slap. Woohyun bucks down into the rug with a cry Sungyeol could only describe as 'beautiful', and Sungyeol leans over, gentle kiss placation for the abuse.

"Did that hurt?" Sungyeol asks, voice husky, and Woohyun whimpers in response, a vocal-less reply that somehow asks for more. Sungyeol leans back down, breath coasting over the red handprint until Woohyun squirms, but he draws out the moment, letting Woohyun's suspense at what's coming next continue a little longer.

"I'm going to fuck you like this," Sungyeol says, almost conversationally. "Because I know you like it like this. With your ass up, face down, just like that." There's a pause, when Woohyun's whines interrupt his thought, but Sungyeol continues on, hand soothing on the small of Woohyun's back. "I'm going to fuck you for a long time. I want you to remember me every moment your away. I want you to wake up with your dick hard and my name on your lips. I want you to come back to me, begging for it."

Woohyun's almost sobbing now, and it turns into a keening wail when Sungyeol gives in, spreading Woohyun open for his mouth. Sungyeol's tongue swirls against Woohyun's entrance, heavy saliva pooled on his tongue; Woohyun's hips rise off the floor, and Sungyeol takes the opportunity to reach under him, palm rubbing at Woohyun's cockhead. Sungyeol strokes languidly, coating Woohyun completely, enough to reach up and push in two fingers to the knuckle in an instant, rough but not painful.

"Do you want it?" asks Sungyeol,

"Yes," Woohyun whispers, a secret between them.

"How bad?" Sungyeol twists his fingers, just once, but it's enough for Woohyun's eyes to flutter closed, eyebrows drawn as he tries to concentrate on answering the question.

"Really bad."

"I'll give it you. But not yet."

Sungyeol ignores Woohyun's groan of frustration, one hand sweeping up Woohyun's body as his fingers start their steady pace. There are dips to be explored, smooth and warm and tan skin under his palm, and Sungyeol's fingers slide against Woohyun's lips before pressing in. Without pause, Woohyun sucks at the finger, teeth nipping at the skin, and Sungyeol fights off the urge to spread Woohyun open right there and take him. Instead, he draws his finger out, warm and wet, and circles Woohyun's nipple, feeling Woohyun clench around him in response.

The goal is to make Woohyun crazy, stringing him along until he's desperate, needy, begging. Sungyeol doesn't know why he needs it, but he does; he needs to have Woohyun falling apart at his hands. He needs to know Woohyun won't forget him, not now and not ever.

And it really doesn't take that long, even though Sungyeol tries his damnedest anyway. Woohyun ruts up into his mouth, hips unsteady in their cadence as Sungyeol lets his mouth be fucked, and Sungyeol just knows he's reaching his breaking point. So he presses Woohyun down, face first into the bed, but Woohyun turns, moving away.

"No...no no no," Woohyun says frantically, and Sungyeol doesn't move, afraid of some boundary crossed without knowing.

"I want to see you. I want to be able to touch you," Woohyun clarifies, holding Sungyeol's face as he pulls Sungyeol down on top of him, and Sungyeol goes along, too intoxicated by Woohyun to question the implications of what is being asked of him.

The lines of Woohyun's body stay imprinted in Sungyeol's mind, muscle strained under skin, Woohyun's body bowed off the bed, knuckles white where they hold on to the headboard. It's not so difficult for him to get lost in Woohyun's body, moves steady while the rest of him goes wild. Sungyeol's mouth bites, sucks, licks everything it can reach, hands following close behind to hold, feel, torture. When Woohyun whines, he slows down; when Woohyun cries out, he goes faster.

It becomes a blur, his hand around Woohyun's dick, pumping hard and fast, getting Woohyun there before he goes over the edge. Woohyun pulls Sungyeol down, mouth falling open on a sigh when Sungyeol's tongue traces his bottom lip, and Sungyeol feels the end coming, Woohyun's chest rising quick on short, broken breaths before a long, wavering sigh. It's so perfect, every part of Woohyun and the way he feels, the way he cries into Sungyeol's mouth, the way his hands grab Sungyeol's shoulders, digging in. Sungyeol rides it out, giving in everything to make the moment last before surrendering himself, moans drowned out against Woohyun's neck.

The moment arrives, in which one of them would make some cynical joke about the other one fucking off, but it doesn't come. Sungyeol stays right where he is, face plastered to Woohyun's chest, before he feels fingers in his hair, running between the strands. It's so soothing, intimate, that he relaxes into a half-sleep before realizing what's happening. Affection is the last thing he and Woohyun share; he's not even sure Woohyun knows what affection is.

Sungyeol turns his head, easing back down into sleep; if Woohyun's not going to say a word, neither will he.

* * *

Something is most decidedly wrong, but it's not Sungyeol who realizes it; it's fucking Lee Howon, and he holds it above Sungyeol's held like a bully holding the glasses of the short kid, just out of reach.

"Do you realize what you just said?" Howon asks incredulously, chin moving up and down like a nutcracker with vibrating laughter. Sungyeol looks up from his computer, across their shared desk, and Howon raises his eyebrows, looking shocked.

"...what?" Sungyeol's irritable enough as is, feeling grumpy for absolutely no reason whatsoever, and Howon's annoying cheerfulness isn't making strides to better that.

"You just said 'I wish Woohyun were here'. Oh man, you're  _done_  for, buddy."

Sungyeol types away as if nothing has happened before slamming the laptop lid, making the whole desk shake. "Fuck you," he says, pushing away from his desk enough to make his chair spin. He stalks off, getting in the elevator and heading up, not even knowing where he's going. It ends up being the roof access, winter wind whipping at his face, and he screams into it, feeling the words comes back to him on the air.

"Fuck fuck fuck FUCK," Sungyeol screams, throat going numb from both the force and the cold. This wasn't supposed to happen to him. Not with Woohyun. Woohyun, the type of asshole who would rub it in his face, just to put salt on the wound. Woohyun, the very person he's been longing for, not just to fuck, but to fucking talk to, or cuddle, or some shit like that.

He wants Woohyun with him, just to be with him. He wants to tell Woohyun about his day. And, worst of all, he wants to know about Woohyun's day, too.

He wants to fall in love with Nam Woohyun.

"Oh my god, no no no, fuck," he whispers to himself, feeling an existential dread mixed with an overwhelming sense of need.

There's no way this is going to end well.

* * *

When Woohyun makes it back to town, he doesn't bother letting Sungyeol know; he comes straight to Sungyeol's door.

Sungyeol, ill-humored and self-isolated, drags himself to the speaker box, ominously muttering about killing Dongwoo if he's back to get him to go out again. " **What**?" he barks into the machine, irritability getting the worst of him.

"Buzz me in, dick," is the reply he earns, and his fingers skitter as they rush to push the button. The three minutes it takes for Woohyun to get in, up the elevator, and down the hall is the most nerve-wracking span of time in Sungyeol's laugh, and he thinks he might throw up right here, in the hyeon gwan. The knock comes, the beats drummed out to whatever song is stuck in Woohyun's head, continuing until Sungyeol swings the door open.

There are a few things that could have happened: Woohyun could have strutted in like usual, past Sungyeol with some "'sup, fuckwad" thrown over his shoulder; perhaps, Woohyun could have jumped Sungyeol, right there - that wouldn't have been out of the ordinary, either.

What really happens is something like this: Sungyeol stands there, hand propping the door open, all semblance of courage out the window. Woohyun looks in from outside in the hallway, feet unmoving. Nothing happens. They don't speak. No one moves.

And then Woohyun steps in, arms open, and Sungyeol moves to him, letting himself be wrapped up. The door swings shut, leaving them together, just like that. Woohyun's head rests under Sungyeol's chin, and it comforts Sungyeol to learn Woohyun still smells like his old shampoo. Nothing is different. Woohyun's body feels the same pressed against. Woohyun still takes the the same kind of deep breath when they relax into it.

Everything has changed, somehow.

Sungyeol leans back, hands around Woohyun's arms to push him away, just enough as if he were examining him, and Woohyun looks back, eyes searching just as well. What Sungyeol really wants to say is " _I missed you_ ", but he might as well be giving Woohyun a knife to stab straight into his heart. Instead, his heart makes the only decision it can think makes sense for them.

"Come sit. Let's talk."

They don't talk, strictly speaking. Or rather, they never have, but now Sungyeol gives it a try, feeling awkward. Words are not his enemies - Sungyeol says what he says and people can choose to take it how they want, but not it feels like, no matter how he forms them, they'll all come out wrong.

"I don't think we should see each other," Sungyeol says, straight to the point. Woohyun's eyes leave the hands in his lap, searching Sungyeol's face as if to discern if this were a game.

"Why? Did you meet someone?" Woohyun's voice seems thick, and Sungyeol can't put his finger on why.

"I- yes," Sungyeol answers, in a round-about way. "I did."

Woohyun studies his face a little longer, a look Sungyeol can't decipher. "Do they make you happy?"

Sungyeol laughs, but it seems bitter. It probably is bitter. "No, not really. And, at the same time, yes."

Woohyun nods, eyes back down in his lap, and there's a pause, where Woohyun stands up, looking ready to leave, before he drops back down the couch, eyes fixed on Sungyeol's face now.

"I could have made you happy. I just want you to know that. I could have made you happier than anyone else could have, you know? Maybe I should have pointed that out to you earlier, and maybe I'm wrong for not. But before I go, I just want to know. I would have been everything you wanted."

It takes a moment for Sungyeol to sort it all out, and even then, he's not sure he's hearing right. So, he asks the only way he knows how.

"Are you stupid?"

Woohyun looks up at him, and Sungyeol has to laugh because Woohyun is crying about this. Woohyun is crying over him. The world is upside-down, hell is currently freezing over, and Nam Woohyun is crying over  _him_.

"You asshole! You just broke my heart, and now you're laughing at me. You sick...twisted...fuck you!"

Woohyun looks like he might start punching him in the face, but Sungyeol can't stop laughing. Woohyun's so stupid. He's so stupid. They're both so stupid.

"You broke my heart first!" Sungyeol says between the laughter. "Why do you think I'm sending you away?"

"You just said you met some-"

"You! I met you. I thought if I told you I wanted to be with me you would have made fun of me until I wanted to die. That's always how you acted." Woohyun's full on crying now, and Sungyeol is admittedly a huge asshole, but it's so endearing, he can't stop laughing.

"I- I didn't- you acted the same way! Stop laughing at me, you jerk! This isn't funny!"

It's totally funny, and Sungyeol scoots over, pushing Woohyun's face into his chest and ignoring Woohyun's punches into his side, telling him to fuck off and let him go. It takes a minute for Woohyun to hear his voice over his complaining, but when he does, he finally settles into Sungyeol's chest, hiccuping into it as Sungyeol strokes his hair.

"Do you want to try? Something more?"

Woohyun's head nod is ardent, and Sungyeol laughs at that one last time, rocking them together in an embrace.

"Fuck you," Woohyun says, under his arm, and Sungyeol bites his lip.

"Deal."

 


End file.
